Read Online A Crossworder's Holiday by Nero Blanc - Free Book Online Page B

crossword puzzles clipped from various newspapers. “Meg was a puzzle fanatic—had a shop in Lancaster mail her out-of-state newspapers. And even at the end, with her memory blinking on and off, it was her favorite hobby … Needless to say, the auction house isn’t interested in my aunt’s completed word games.”
    Rosco perused the puzzles. “Wow … Here’s one from 1952 and another from 1969 … and here’s one from a 1948 Philadelphia Inquirer. ” He squinted at it. “Huh? Thomas Dewey and Harry Truman both have eleven letters in their names. Did you know that?”
    â€œDon’t get started; you’ll never stop … Meg liked to tell me she was as fascinated with the shapes of letters and words as I am with pieces of wood. Speaking of which, I should close up my shop on the way home. Hannah warned me not to be late. She’s making her famous chicken bot boi for you.”
    â€œAnd shoofly pie?”
    â€œYou’re not going to leave Bird-in-Hand hungry, that’s for sure.”
    R OSCO and Steve walked through the snow-laced village. The sun was setting, and its salmon-colored rays reflected vividly off the icy white, bathing each house in lush pink and gold while the smells of home cooking perfumed the air: potato bread, apple fritters, and the sharp tang of sauerkraut. The chilled air seemed to make each aroma, each image, more pungent and compelling. The scents and sights filled Rosco with peace: small-town America settling into a cozy December night. Steve, however, bundled into his parka, his hands thrust deep in his pockets and his beard buried in a scarf, grew increasingly melancholy.
    â€œWhen I was a kid, I used to walk along this very street on my way home from sledding. Everything looks the same as it did then; it even smells the same …”
    Rosco let his friend’s sorrow linger in the night air before speaking. “The town’s going to lose something very important if your aunt’s estate is broken up.”
    â€œOnly Greta would disagree with you,” Steve replied. “In fact, the entire village is up in arms over the situation … I guess everyone feels a way of life is being threatened: Old World traditions, neighbors helping neighbors, family members caring for one another … old folks, youngsters, newlyweds—”
    â€œUnderstandable.” Rosco interrupted as gently as he could. “You said that she and your uncle Amos had been married for only two years?”
    â€œThat’s right. He met her down in Philadelphia during one of his infrequent forays into an urban environment. The next thing you knew we had an ‘Aunt Greta.’”
    Rosco smiled. “You make her sound like an orphaned rattlesnake. It must have been difficult for her to make friends—”
    â€œYou can say that again. I don’t know anyone who didn’t think she was a gold digger as well as a city slicker. ”
    â€œTell me a little more about your uncle’s death,” Rosco pushed. “You mentioned it was unexpected.”
    His response was tinted with a deep tone of devotion. “You remember Amos, don’t you, Rosco? The epitome of the Pennsylvania Dutch elder: an ox of a man with a booming voice and a handshake that could crunch bones. He told me one time that when he’d had measles as a kid, his teacher had turned him away from the classroom out of fear he’d infect the other students … Those were the only days he missed school …” Steve chuckled briefly at the memory. “Absolutely nothing got Amos down. Nothing. Even in his seventies he was out there plowing with his team of mules—on foot, too … But then there was a community event—a potluck supper—and Amos contracted food poisoning …”
    â€œDid a lot of people get sick?” Rosco asked.
    â€œNo … Just Uncle Amos.”
    N IGHT brought a heavy snowfall; and